


Change

by Zoya113



Category: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: A little bit of fluff & a little bit of angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:01:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24733579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoya113/pseuds/Zoya113
Summary: Everything is always the exact same every single day at Beanies. Same customers, same drinks, same staff drama.If nothing changes, Emma is going to lose her mind. There’s only one thing she’d keep the same.
Relationships: Emma Perkins/ Paul Matthews
Comments: 5
Kudos: 37





	Change

“Hey, you made this wrong. I asked for it with ice,” a drink was shoved up into Emma’s face, ripping her right out of her train of thought. “But it’s hot.”

“Oh, sorry about that,” she held out a hand to try and take it off him. “I’ll fix that up for you, sir.”

“I just want to know why you made it hot if I asked for it with ice, you’re supposed to do your job you work here,” the man huffed. “What are you going to do about this?” 

“I can make you another one,” she offered, pissed someone would pull that excuse on her. She had heard it before but it was probably her least favourite. It was so cocky, and it never failed to convince Emma that they had never worked a day in their life. “Or I can offer a refund,” she continued when he didn’t seem to take the bait. 

“Well that’s not what I want, I wanted you to make it right the first time,” he growled. “Go get another barista who will actually do it right.” 

Emma felt a hand on her shoulder as she was pushed back a step from the bench. 

“Hi,” came Zoey’s sickly sweet voice. It was almost sing-songy. “I’m the manager here, can I help you with anything?” M

“Yes!” The man shrugged his shoulders up in a show of relief. “Finally, your barista made me the wrong drink and I want it fixed.” 

“Oh of course, no problem sir,” she beamed, but her eyes were slitted and her her nose scrunched up. She tucked her phone into her apron pocket. “I’ll take care of that for you myself, Emma, why don’t you take your break?” She gave her a bitter smile and Emma couldn’t tell who’s side she was on because she was already hurrying back to the break room. 

Those sorts of customers pissed her off viscerally. The ones that had to drag everyone into it to see how woefully they had been wronged! Get over yourself. It made her stomach churn and the snarky tone that made her root herself to the ground so she didn’t barrel over the counter to throttle him senseless. How self righteous can one person be over a god damn coffee?

She sat down on the edge of the break room couch, waiting impatiently for her scolding to come. It was unfair that she would get in trouble to keep a customer happy. Ridiculous that he’d make such a great big deal over it too! He was probably out there coming to some sort of compromise, she realised with a dawning feeling, to cut her hours or fire her if they still wanted his ever so valuable patronage. 

As if Zoey would be out there defending her, she edged forward, Zoey was not the defending type. She was to be quite honest, a boot locker. Ugh. This stupid customer, Emma would love for him to just go to Starbucks. She didn’t need his five dollars, they wouldn’t even get it now considering he’s probably getting it all for free. 

Emma wasn’t actually sitting on the couch any more, she had edged forward far too much and was sort of just squatting down with her back against the couch. 

Ugh, she couldn’t just sit in the middle of the break room floor when Nora was just in her office. But also, her legs had locked. She knew what she was like when she was angry, and her fantastic great mental restraint was all that stood between her and a manslaughter charge. So she tucked herself into the corner between the couch and the wall instead. 

‘dont reply in the next fifty seconds if ur okay w me beating the shit out of a customer’ she text Paul, maybe she was mad about Zoey too. And how she was absolutely going to wind up in the wrong despite not doing a single thing! 

‘Please don’t,’ Paul text back. ‘What’s up??’

She checked the time stamp. Well lucky for Mr business out there. 

‘Another classic Emma Perkins versus Beanies case’ 

‘I don’t like how you phrased that like a trial. You haven’t already killed someone have you?’ 

That made her laugh a bit, happy Paul was taking in all the true crime cases she had been rambling about lately. It would probably calm her down too just to hear something outside of her own thoughts, and she wasn’t listening to music right now that was for sure.

She plugged in her headphones, slumping back against the wall. The radio always played the same five songs on loop, that was another thing that just rubbed her the wrong way. 

‘no I haven’t killed him paul beanies just sucks ass today’ she replied. ‘Lmao’, she added, just to pretend she wasn’t as angry as she was. 

“Emma?” 

She glanced up, Nora was standing over her, surprised to have found her here of all the places in the break room. 

Emma froze. It wasn’t easy to explain this away. 

“Tricky customer, huh?” She got down too, kneeling over but balancing on the tips of her toes. 

“Uh.” She closed her phone. Not like she wasn’t allowed to use it on her break but she probably shouldn’t be making death threats in plain view of her manager. 

“You don’t usually listen to music,” she noted. 

“Uh,” Emma couldn’t tell whether this was her scolding or if it was just a question. “That guy had such a go at me over messing up his drink,” she started. “It’s just a podcast, a podcast for like. Hospitality complaints.” It didn’t matter what it was, but she was just trying to make it more relevant than just ‘listening to some tunes.’

Nora’ lips pursed shut and she took one of Emma’s headphones, holding it to her ear. “Emma, this is a podcast on the golden state killer.” She held it to her ear for a second longer before returning it. “I sure hope that’s not what you mean by hospitality complaints.” 

“Uh, sorry.” She took her headphones out and wrapped them up around her phone, clutching it to her chest. “I zoned out while I was sitting and just-“

“Ended up in a corner, Emma?” Nora stood back up, stretching out a hand to help her. “Who’s that guy out there and why’s he making such a big deal?”

“He says I messed up his order, which I didn’t!” She assured her. “And I asked if he wanted a refund or if he wanted another drink but then he just started complaining to Zoey!”

“Well. I guess I better go free Zoey from his grips. He’s loud,” she huffed, her hands resting at her hips for a second with a scornful glare at the door. “Yeah. Alright.”

It was the same old show and dance as per usual. Every time they got a customer like this Zoey would have her go appeasing him or picking a fight, and then Nora would go out and resolve it all with a firm but understanding approach. Maybe she was so mad because she was getting sick of it. Of those two pretending it ever changes. 

Today was just another bad day of her underpaying job. Just another way to kill time until the next. 

Eventually, Zoey leant in through the door, a wide eyed, quiet look on her face as her eyes found Emma in the centre of the room. “He’s gone now.”

“Okay,” she answered. Because she couldn’t say ‘good’ if she was the one in the wrong. But just as she passed by Zoey out to the front counter she heard her mutter: ‘what an asshole.’ So Emma snickered. “Yeah. I’m glad that’s over with,” and Zoey gave a flicker of a smile before her head went back to her phone and her feet took her back to the break room. As per usual.

“Wow, you don’t see someone like that every day,” Nora absently wiped a cleaning rag over one of the machines. “He had an attitude.”

But that was the thing. Emma saw customers like that every single day, she could just usually handle them before Zoey smelled drama and came running. 

She sighed, finishing down the machines Nora had started. The atmosphere was totally different now, tense and thick. Almost stifling, like Emma couldn’t quite breathe without thinking about it. 

Her chest was still tight, her heart thumping angrily up against her ribs.   
She felt sort of numb outside of her own body. Her eyes paid no attention to her surroundings, it was exactly the same as every day, the chairs were tucked into their tables, the display shelf stocked up with the same products in the same places. What was new? 

It wasn’t stimulating, it was dry and dull and mind-numbing. The same shitty customers ordered the same shitty drinks and gave their same shitty tips. 

She pulled out a pitcher. She’d get herself a hibiscus tea, it was one of the only drinks she’d never really had and she just needed things to change.

She was getting the cold, iced tea jug out from the freezer when the bell above the door rang. Her brain only paid attention out of habit, as her thumb ran over her icy fingers. That was new at least. 

The worker side of her brain quashed her free will and she placed the jug down, her only real anger remaining in her icy finger tips as a memory. 

Oh.

No wonder she was so awake all of a sudden. It was midday, twelve o clock. And the same thing happened every day, and Paul arrived right on time as he always did. 

“Haven’t killed anyone yet, have you?” He chuckled, anxiously fiddling with his tie as he made light conversation like they hadn’t been doing this every day for years now. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Emma rubbed her hands down on her apron, warming them up as they reached instinctively for the ground coffee beans.   
She didn’t quite answer, but gave a small laugh.

“Just a black coffee, thanks,” he dropped his usual tip in the tip jar. “Bad day?” He asked. 

“Getting better,” she answered, her frown melting into a tired smile at the sight of his dumb face.

“Hah, I’m glad,” he was genuine, leaning just across the counter for her to lean up and give him a quick kiss. “Let’s hope it stays that way.” 

Maybe some things were better to stay the same.


End file.
